Pink Floyd Loses Waters And Its Color

September 27, 1987|By Chris Heim.

Oh, by the way, which one`s Pink,`` the sarcastic joke on Pink Floyd`s album ``Wish You Were Here,`` has taken on a decidedly serious and unamusing twist of late. The backhanded put-down of those too boorish to know the name of the group was taken from two obscure American bluesmen (Pink Anderson and Floyd Council) now signifies a split in the ranks, occasioned by the departure of Roger Waters, and the lengthy litigation that will determine who owns the name and assets of Britain`s premier ``psychedelic`` band.

Both sides have recently released new albums and embarked on extensive and elaborately theatrical tours, thus carrying their case to the court of public opinion as well. Waters` ``Radio K.A.O.S. Tour`` passed through these parts earlier in the month while the remaining members of Pink Floyd (David Gilmour, Nick Mason and Richard Wright) settled into the Rosemont Horizon Friday for four nights.

On the surface the two shows have striking similarities: the chest-pounding sound systems (Rogers wins a few extra points for sonic clarity and dexterity), the extensive use of video clips shown on a round screen above and behind the band, even some of the same songs (``Welcome to the Machine`` and

``Money``).

The hands-down winner for lighting, a key element in both shows, was Pink Floyd and their lighting designer, Marc Brickman (previously with Bruce Springsteen). Elaborate rigs of computerized spotlights tracked above the stage, robotlike banks of lights rose from under it and lasers etched intricate patterns and forms out of the darkness.

The colors used were not the usual, harsh, predictible primaries but tans, magentas, roses, aquas, lime greens and lemon yellows. It was a sensuous, almost palpable rainbow, the visual equivalent of the ``painted sound`` original Floyd member Syd Barrett was urgently trying to create in the early days of the band.

Unfortunately, the rest of the show could not match the gorgeous setting. The music, both new and old, was as drab and turgid as the lighting was exotic and stylish. Endless space jams plodded along with maddeningly solemnity while thin wisps of melody were stretched over so many bars that their poor little backs finally broke.

The band, swollen to 10 for the tour, was barely felt and often completely unseen, and the ``assets`` Pink Floyd still commands (the inflatable pig, the airplane and other odds and ends seen on previous tours)

were used with little regard to meaning and context.

In contrast, Waters` Radio K.A.O.S. tour was a tightly constructed show that carefully and powerfully integrated each and every element into a seamless web. Waters may not, as many critics contend, be able to write a melody to save his life. His presence and message are often bilious and misanthropic, but at least he had them.

Even if he eventually loses the battle to control the name Pink Floyd, these concerts seem to indicate he`ll remain the true possessor of the group`s soul.